(Don't) Suck it up
by LeDiz
Summary: (2012) Prone to freak outs he may be, but Donatello's always been able to suck it up and get on with things. Which is why this April thing is weird. Leonardo's determined to figure it out.


_**(Don't) suck it up**_

**DISCLAIMER:** Okay, so, I figured I was too old for Ninja Turtles, and the new art style was weird, and oh, my god, Donatello going head over heels for anyone, let alone April?! What the hell were you thinking? And then, I actually watched an episode, and… and… dammit.

**SECONDARY DISCLAIMER:** While I never liked the April/Donnie thing (and I really hope Irma's inevitable crush on Donnie isn't reciprocated because first of all, cop-out, and second of all, cliché), this isn't intended as a slight against it. It's just building on some minor points of the relationship. Sorry if I offend anyone.

* * *

Growing up surrounded by brothers, in a house that encourages physical means of expression, with a father that dispenses advice through koan and mild violence, all four turtles are occasionally stumped by emotions.

They prefer to wrestle and snark, make fun of feelings and torture each other for their softer quirks, but they will admit to loving each other. And they are supportive, in their own ways. They don't always get it right, but they all kind of know how to deal with their brothers' issues.

When Raphael is angry, the best way to help is to give him something to hit. Sparring, training, anything. Eventually he grunts out his problems while beating things apart. Michelangelo needs distraction, and comfort, and he spills his problems once he feels safe enough. Leonardo needs time and quiet. He voluntarily talks to Splinter when things get really hard. Donatello is probably the hardest, because he just does what he always does – finds something to fix, and doesn't tell anyone anything, until Splinter asks.

The thing with April though… Splinter is ignoring it, for whatever reason, and no one really wants to pick up the slack. They need to, though. It's getting to be a problem. He's making stupid decisions and jeopardising things that can't be risked. Worse, April's started getting mad about it. Not obviously so, but Raphael told Leonardo that Casey told him that April said it was 'creepy'. And while Casey's told Raphael that all of the turtles get creepy sometimes, doing things or saying things that aren't 'normal', Leonardo thinks this might be something worse.

He's tried hinting to Splinter that maybe he could say something. Splinter hinted back that if Leonardo thought it was a problem, then as leader, maybe _he_ should do something about it.

So here he is, in the junkyard at one in the morning, watching Donatello sort through a scrap heap. He's trying really hard to find some way to say 'so, you need to give up on April' with something resembling tact.

"So, Donnie," he says, drumming his fingers against his knee pads, "you kinda need to give up on April."

Tact is not something any of the turtles excel in.

The junkyard isn't exactly bustling with noise, but now it seems to fall completely silent. He risks a glance and finds that Donatello has stopped moving, just staring at whatever is in his hands, and winces.

"Look, man, I'm not trying to get on your case or anything, and this isn't like normal, with me and Raph trying to mess with you –"

"Then why say anything?" Donatello asks coldly, and tosses the piece of scrap a little harder than he probably means to.

Leonardo winces harder. "I just think it's starting to get a little out of hand. I mean, yeah, it was funny at first, but it's been over a year now and I think she's starting to think it's a little weird."

"Leo."

"I'm serious, Don," he insists. "I don't want to hurt your feelings or whatever, but simple facts say –"

"_Leo_."

He clenches his fists. "She doesn't like you like that, and she's not going to."

"_I know_!" he snaps, and slams his hand against the heap. "Even if I was blind, do you think you're the first person to tell me that?"

"It's tough, I know, but – wait, what?" He blinks, brow furrowing as he stares at his brother. "You know? Who else has told you? You're not talking about Raph, are you?"

Donatello glares at him, but says nothing, and goes back to the device he just picked up. He turns it over in his hands, pokes at the buttons, then stuffs it in his bag before reaching into the pile again. He continues as if Leonardo never spoke, which is weird, but… kind of typical Donnie, so Leonardo stands and moves to crouch beside him.

"Okay, so… how long have you known?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe _always_?" he says, sarcasm and irritation dripping from every syllable.

"And you still –"

"Be _quiet_, Leo. I'm _working_."

"You're always working," he snaps back – an automatic response that doesn't really have any place in this discussion. He adds onto it to clarify. "The only time you're not working is when we're training, or you're mooning over April. So if I want to talk to you _about_ April, I have to do it while you're working."

"Maybe I don't want to talk about it," he says through clenched teeth.

"Maybe you don't have a choice!" he shoots back, before the volume reaches his ears and he realises Donatello's not just glaring at him because of the topic. He hunches his shoulders as if that will help him lower his voice back to a whisper. "April's my friend too, Donnie. I don't want to lose her again. But you have long since crossed the line, and knowing she doesn't like you _just makes it worse_!"

Donatello rolls his eyes. "The subordinate connection 'but' confused that whole statement, you know. Pick a complaint and stick with it."

Leonardo can't growl like Raphael does, but the noise building in his throat is still embarrassingly inhuman and works even better on his brothers. Case in point: Donatello draws into his shell slightly, an instinctive response to an instinctive dominance tactic. He still scowls, though.

"What're you so mad about?" he asks waspishly. "Are you worried I'm gonna scare her off or something?"

"Of course you are!" he says furiously. "You're creeping me out, let alone _her_, and she can't hang out with us without dealing with you! You think she's gonna keep coming around if she can't spend twenty minutes at the lair without you breathing down her neck?"

Donatello's eyes shoot off to the side, defensive and angry.

"And you're supposed to be the smart one! You know this isn't how to make someone like you!" he adds. "This kind of stupidity I might buy from Mikey, but you…!"

Again, the only response to this is non-verbal, his eyes narrowing and fists curling against his thighs.

"And I know where you're coming from, Don; we're all lonely! And believe me, there's nothing any of us would like more than a girlfriend!" He notices the blank widening of Donatello's eyes that normally prompts an inopportune correction and/or educational factoid, so the fact that it disappears into his scowl almost immediately tells Leonardo that his brother is actually giving this the weight it deserves, despite his silence. He sighs and rubs between his eyes. "But obsessing over her and acting like a jerk isn't going to do anything but make her think you're a creep. And you're _not_ a creep, Donnie."

"Sure I am," he says. "Why else would I be acting like this?"

He asks it so blandly, so honest and unemotional, that if it had been anyone other than Donatello, Leonardo probably would have taken it at face value. But from Donatello, master of the non-expression, it's a challenge.

Well, Hamato Leonardo does not back down from a challenge. Even if he's got no idea what Donatello really wants.

"You know, that's the one thing I can't figure out," he says, and throws himself on the ground beside him. "I get that you like her. I know you've got an obsessive personality –"

"Do not."

"Oh yeah? Then what do you call it when you don't come out of the lab until Raphael literally drags you out, huh?" he demands, and Donatello glares off to the side. Leonardo continues glaring at him for a few seconds, tempted to keep listing his brother's faults, but knows that's not productive. So he just huffs out his frustration and continues. "Combine those two things and yeah, we've got a serious problem in the making. But you're _also_ the only one of us that's always been able to suck it up and get on with things."

Donatello stiffens slightly, and Leonardo knows he's accidentally hit something there. So he follows the thought through. "No matter what the problem is, nothing ever seems to get to you. Raph gets mad about being a mutant, Mikey's always been desperate for a friend –"

"You're never happy unless you're the best at everything," he interjects blandly, and Leonardo glares, but lets him have it.

"Yeah. But none of it ever seemed to get to you for long. Whenever you could've been upset about something, you just went into the lab and worked on something. I mean, remember, when we were kids, and you were the only one that Master Splinter wouldn't let try the nunchakus? You built our TV," he says with a laugh, but it quickly fades as he notices Donatello's eyes narrow slightly. He hesitates, thinking about that for a second, then leans forward to try and catch his gaze. "I know it bugs you, that you're not as good at the art as… well… any of us. But my point is, you never let it keep you down. You never really let _anything_ keep you down. You let them go, and focus on your strengths. So why is this—why is April—the one thing you can't let go of?"

For a long time, Donatello doesn't move, or look around. And when he does, it's just to pick up another piece of junk, which he turns through his hands like it's more than the cooling fan even Leonardo can recognise it as. When he finally speaks, Leonardo's not surprised it seems to be a new topic. "Do you remember when we used to play make believe? We all had invisible friends, even Raph. You remember that?"

He knows that despite all appearances, this will turn out to be relevant, so Leonardo takes the time to think back. When the memory stirs, he can't help but smile. "Yeah. We'd all make up friends that were cooler than everyone else's."

"Mikey's was the coolest," Donatello reminds him. "Pablo. With that flying skateboard."

He laughs, because he forgot that. "And the dog, that could talk!"

"We all knew it wasn't real, of course. Not even having the imaginary friends – we were never alone long enough to 'spend time' with them. But every night, we'd have the same talks, about what our friends had done all day," he said, and finally turned his head to look at him. "We used to get so worked up. You and Raph even got into that big fight, because he said his friend could kick your friend's butt. Even though we knew it was all pretend."

Leonardo's smile fades. Thinking about it now, it sounds… sad. Pathetic. "We were kids, Donnie. It was just fun."

"Yeah. It was fun. It was nice to pretend," he agrees. "It's always nice to pretend you can have something you can't. But life doesn't work like that. You can't have everything you want. Sometimes you can't have anything you really want."

"Like… girlfriends?" he guesses, and Donatello tosses his scrap back into the pile.

"Like anything. Like martial arts skills, or a real education, or access to real equipment that hasn't been stolen from a place that really needs it," he says, and just for a second, irritation flares in his tone. "But it's fine, you know? I make do. I build incredible machines out of junk! The sheer scope of my knowledge is practically unheard of among humans! And I may be a joke in _our_ dojo, but I can hold my own against some of the strongest martial artists out there. I love my family, and most of the time I think you all love me. That should be enough."

Leonardo almost reaches out at that. Almost forgets what they were talking about just to catch on that one tiny slip: 'most of the time'. But he knows it's not what's important right now. So he just takes a steadying breath and waits, watching Donatello's profile.

"And then April came along. And she was so smart, and beautiful… she was perfect. A- and y'know, at first I thought it'd be the same. Just a little crush, and I could dream, and eventually she'd leave, and… that would be it. The girl that got away."

Leonardo is starting to understand where this is going. "But she didn't leave."

"Worse. She actually seemed to like me," he says wearily. "She called me a hero. And she didn't care about the mutant thing. It was almost like… like she didn't see the giant turtle, she saw a _guy_. A _person_. It was like, aside from that one time that she screamed, in the beginning, she completely forgot that there was anything weird about us—me—at all."

They both look at the ground, because they both know it's a nice little fantasy that they all have. That April and Casey see them as people, not mutants.

It's not as negative as it sounds. Leonardo knows their friends care about them, and want them to be happy. Heck, they'd be thrilled if all four of the turtles met nice girls, and they could have huge, quintuple dates, or whatever five couples are called when they're all together. But it's not just insecurity that tells Leonardo the first question either of them would ask the girls would be "and it really doesn't bother you? The whole turtle thing?"

Leonardo curls his hands into fists, because he can even see the looks on their faces as they ask. Protective. Accusing. And… just that little bit of disbelief. And they wouldn't think anything of it. Heck, they'd probably think they were doing the turtles a favour – scoping the girls out, making sure they were on the level.

Because they couldn't quite believe any human would like a mutant like that.

"But there is, you know?" Donatello says, pulling Leonardo out of his own angry thoughts as he lifts his hand up to the light. "Humans and mutants… we're not supposed to go together. And us, I mean… we're not even mammals! We don't fit together with humans, not – not on any kind of… physical level! And don't even start, I know you've thought about it too!"

Leonardo winces, because he has, was going to blush and stammer anyway, and didn't even get a chance.

Donatello sighs again. "But it was nice to dream. So… I did. I let myself dream. And the more I dreamed, the more real it seemed. She knew. I mean, I wasn't exactly subtle, so of course she knew. But she didn't just tell me to get lost! And so even though I knew it was crazy, I started thinking that maybe…"

With a horrible sinking feeling, Leonardo realises he recognises what Donatello's saying. He's had similar thoughts of Karai. So many times. "You started thinking that maybe, this time, you could cheat the whole deal."

"I know it's stupid," he says. "But then, y'know, she started avoiding us, and then we screwed up with the mutagen and Mr O'Neil, and it all just felt so…!"

"Typical," he supplies quietly, and Donatello threw up his hands.

"And it's not _fair_! It drove me so nuts, because yeah, we screwed up, but it wasn't really our fault! A- and before that, when she was avoiding us, and her dad didn't want us around, it wasn't even because we're ninjas! It wasn't because we're dangerous! It was because we're mutants!" he snaps. "It doesn't matter how great we are! It doesn't matter what we can do, or who we can be, because all we're ever going to be is mutant _turtles_, and we're never going to be anything else to anyone!"

He's too loud now. His voice is echoing around the scrap yard. But Leonardo can't bring himself to say anything. Because part of him wants to yell too.

He's not as… bothered about it as Donatello. He's never really wanted to be human, but then, his interests never really needed him to be, aside from, y'know… girls. All he really wants is to be a good leader and ninja; protect his family. And that means he's _supposed_ to remain unseen and unengaged from the wider world. But it does kind of suck sometimes.

And much as they all try to ignore the fact, Donatello isn't really like the rest of them. He never should have had to devote his life to ninjitsu. He should be going to school, acing tests, applying to college and becoming like, seven different kinds of doctor. But no matter how much he learns through the internet and his own experiments, the simple fact of it is that you can't be a real scientist without dealing with _people_.

It's not fair. It's how things are, but it's not fair.

Donatello falls forward again, elbows almost on the ground with his heavy sigh. "I know she's never gonnna fall for me. And that'd be fine if I could just for a second believe that it's because of _who_ I am, not…" His eyes clench shut, and it's like all the air rushes out of him at once. "I know I'm not making any sense."

"No, Donnie, you are," Leonardo says immediately, honestly. "I get it. Really."

"It's stupid."

"Maybe," he admits. "But I get it."

Donatello opens his eyes and peeks up from under his brow, obviously checking for lies, then grimaces and straightens up again in silence. He puts himself back into his work, while Leonardo thinks about what to say.

A big, horrible, shameful part of him wants to drop it. Let things keep going until finally April or Casey snaps, and everything falls apart. Because maybe—just maybe—it'll go bad for all of them, not just Donnie. Maybe April and Casey will make a side, and the turtles'll stand behind their brother, and they'll just decide to call the whole thing off. And then they won't have to think about friends anymore. They won't have _any_ connection to the human world. They'll just be a family again, a fighting team that battles bad guys. And yeah, it'll suck for a little while, but soon, things will go back to normal, and after a while they'll just think of it as a weird phase they all went through. The invisible friends, just in flesh.

No more hoping. No more human dreams. It's tempting in all the wrong ways.

Still, the leader in him knows they've got a good thing going here. April is good support, even without the whole Kraang thing, and she's learning fast. Casey's a great battle partner, even if he is just all violence and anger with enough improvised weaponry to get him through. Leonardo can't risk losing them both. And then there's the damage this could do to the team. Raphael always says 'turtles first', but when it comes down to it, Donatello's the one doing the wrong thing, and Casey's Raphael's best friend. Raph's just as likely to take the humans' side as not, and that turtle fight wouldn't end with Donatello just screaming uncle.

And, besides all that…

April has been a good friend to Donatello. She brought him out of the lab, made him interact with other people. Even if she didn't really understand that much more than the rest of them, she listened to him talk science sometimes. Tried to engage and understand. She's probably the only person that ever really has.

Donatello deserves a friend. He deserves to have April as a friend.

And that means he can't be allowed to keep doing what he is. He can't be allowed to screw this up for himself.

"I think I get it, now," Leonardo says quietly. "You figure you've just gotta keep pushing, and eventually, something's gonna break. And when it does, you can pretend it really was about what you did—what you meant to do—rather than wondering if maybe it's about the shell."

Donatello's hands pause on a laptop casing, but he doesn't otherwise react. Leonardo reaches up and lays a hand on his shoulder, curling his fingers under the hollow of his shell. "But you know, this isn't just about you. If she stops wanting to be around you, chances are she's gonna stop coming around altogether. Mikey's gonna be ticked."

Despite himself, Donatello smiles, and then cocks an eye ridge. "Like you won't be?"

"Hey, turtles first. And besides," he adds, hesitating a second before giving Donatello a gentle shake. "I know how girls can mess with your head. At least mine never really gave me reason to hope. Not to mention that even _if_ she's alive, she's a weird snakey mutant thing now. And kind of our sister…"

"Yeah, that's… kind of a thing," he says, and when they catch each other's eye, they both blink, then snort, because it's all so ridiculous. The laughter is awkward at first, but soon breaks down into companionable empathy, and when they finally stop, Donatello is still smiling. "Sorry for being an idiot."

"Egh. I figure you're allowed to, on occasion," he says, but makes a point of meeting his gaze again. "You'll think about it, though?"

"Yeah, I'll think about it."

"S'all I can really ask," he says, and then shoves him away, turning his attention to the scrap heap. "So, uh… what're you looking for here anyway?"

Donatello gives him the look such a transparent segue deserves. "Dude, we've had a good moment here. Don't insult me by pretending to care."

"I care! I care plenty!" he protests, and then grins, shoving him again. "Especially since you promised to make me a laptop this year."

"What? No I didn't!"

"You so did! I remember! When I creamed you in that breakdancing competition we had! That was the bet: I beat you, and you would build me whatever I wanted."

Donatello's eye ridge goes up again. "Uh huh. And uh, remind me why I would ever make a bet I know I can't win?"

He has to think fast, because admitting Donnie actually only agreed because he was in the middle of a brain-blast and saying 'yeah, sure, whatever' to every question he was asked is kind of asking for trouble. "I think you were trying to impress April."

"You know, considering the conversation we've just had, using April as an excuse is kind of bad taste," he points out blandly, and Leonardo smirks.

"You did just say you're being an idiot!"

"Okay, you know what? Just for that, I'm gonna admit that I've got no idea what I'm looking for here. Yeah, that's right! I'm scavenging for random parts! Because they can be anything. Like this – you know what this is? Neither do I! That's the beauty of junk yards! But it's going to be part of a new device I'm building to – oh, no you don't, you're gonna sit there and listen to this – you asked for it!"

Donatello starts furiously rambling about laptops and their uses, chemical plants and how Splinter isn't allowed to know that Donatello's taken to sneaking into them, and Leonardo makes a show of groaning but lets him rant.

Chances are, this isn't the end of it. It's gonna go south. They might even need to have this whole conversation again, when Donatello's in a worse mood and less in control of himself. But Leonardo is happy to do it. They all have their quirks and bad habits, and yeah, that might cause problems sometimes, but dealing with them is what being a brother is all about.

So he whines and groans and collapses back against the ground when Donatello just does not… stop… _talking_, and sneaks little glances to catch a tiny smile that reassures him Donnie really is going to be okay.


End file.
